


Exposure Therapy

by Ononymous



Series: Christmas 2020 Stories and Requests [10]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Baking, Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 01:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28555434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: Once upon a time, a childish attempt at baking went awry, and laid the seeds for disaster. It's not often one would get a chance to try again in that context, but Chara has.
Relationships: Asgore Dreemurr & Asriel Dreemurr, Chara & Asgore Dreemurr, Chara & Asriel Dreemurr
Series: Christmas 2020 Stories and Requests [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2074179
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Exposure Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoramDeo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoramDeo/gifts).



"You're sure you want to do this?"

"...no. But it's better to confront this. The only way out is through."

"Yeah, you're right." He sighed through furry nostrils. "Are you ready, Chara?"

They felt a warm fuzzy hand squeeze theirs. "...yes."

Asriel opened the door to the kitchen. All the ingredients were on the table. All the tools they needed on the counter, by the sink. The oven door open, but not switched on. And pinned on the fridge, the recipe they'd be using today. He took it off and walked over to a large mixing bowl.

"Okay," he said, "first thing we need is flour."

"Flour," repeated Chara. "Flour. Not flowers. Flour." They picked up the bag and opened it, pouring out the amount required onto scales before emptying it into the bowl.

"Good," said Asriel, "step one complete. Now, milk."

"Milk, okay. That's the easy part." The milk was poured into a jug, and then into the bowl. Asriel began to stir it.

"Next up is eggs. Four? No, three. Thanks, Chara." Not quite adept at cracking them on the bowl rim, he instead tapped each egg with his claw until they were cracked enough to open directly into the bowl. "Um, I think we need sugar next."

"We need sugar," agreed Chara, "but you're stalling. Only way out is through, remember."

"B-but..." he took a deep breath. "If you're sure... we need butter. Two cups."

"Cups. Of butter. Cups. Of. Butter. Not butterc-"

"Don't confuse yourself by saying it, just get it now."

"You're right. Cups of butter..."

The stick of butter, wrapped in foil with an overly happy cow on it, yielded to Chara's expert knife strokes, into the cup. They tipped it into the bowl as Asriel's stirring grew more determined, then quickly went back for more.

"I don't think this is enough," they said.

"Darn, I thought it would be. Check the fridge, we should have more."

Chara obeyed, letting the slight chill of the refrigerated air focus their senses. They grabbed a box.

"Is this it?"

Asriel looked around. His eyes widened, but he made no sudden movements. "Don't freak out or anything, but that's the box of decorative icing flowers Mom got for birthday cake."

"Chklk-" choked Chara, thinking of much larger flowers in a box they themselves had packed from the garden. But they refused. This wasn't harmful. Beyond too much sugar for people with teeth or diabetic problems. It's not the same. Just the wrong box. Now get. That. Butter.

And they did. It was a lot harder to carve off the amount needed given how cold it was, but as Asriel gently encouraged them, they brought the second cup over to him, which he gratefully added to the bowl.

"...thanks," he said, voice full of pride and relief. "The worst part is over. J-just the sugar now. Then w-we can m-make the f-f-filling..."

"Asriel? Are you okay?"

They found themselves in a tight hug, arms pinned to their side, their left cheek growing wet from the damp patch of fur next to it, as Asriel wept silently.

"Hmph. Crybaby."

"You got that right." He released them, then wiped away a fresh tear. "I'm just glad we got to this stage. You don't have to be like Frisk the eternal optimist, I know that's not you. I just thought maybe this would be a better outlet for, well..."

"You're claiming this is your idea?" A smile played on their face. "I thought I was the one who asked if I could bake something with you."

"Well yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't hope it goes well, does it?"

"No. It does not." Without prompting, they took the sugar, measured it out on the scales and tipped it into the bowl. "There. You finish mixing the crust and roll it with the pin, while I prepare the filling."

"You got it! Oh Chara, remember: Butterscotch. Butter _scotch_. Not-"

Their brown eyes looked scarlet at the reminder.

* * *

The shrill whistle of the kettle reached his overlong ears, and with a wave of his hand the flames beneath it vanished. Putting the rose he'd been tending to up on a shelf with other floral patients, Asgore spooned out some tea into the pot, then filled it with water. While it brewed, he looked in the cupboard for something nice to go along with it. Oh dear, stale Temmie Flakes. Well, the shops would still be open, perhaps he could-

_Knock knock!_

"Coming!"

Asgore walked out into the hall and opened the door. His midsection was suddenly being squeezed.

"Surprise!"

"Asriel, Chara!" he said, acknowledging his surprise with a smile. "This is unexpected. Is something the matter?"

"No, Asgore," said Chara, "we have just brought you something."

"Oh...?"

He looked down at what they were holding. A round tray, with uneven pastry trimmings, and whipped cream that looked like it had been scrapped off after too much had been put on. But the smell threw him across space and time.

"You two baked this pie." It wasn't a question. "Your mother has it down to a finely tuned process. For me?"

"No," said Asriel, "we just wanted to show you before we gave it all to Jerry. Of course it's for you!"

"Well, you two have a perfect sense of timing, I've tea in the pot. Would you care for a cup?"

They both nodded. As Asgore took the pie from them and turned back into the kitchen, Asriel saw Chara's face twitch. "What's wrong?"

"This is exactly like last time," they whispered, "he's not even questioning us. He trusts we've made it right and he'll eat it without a second thought and something will go wrong and-"

Their hand was once again seized and squeezed. "It'll be fine, Chara. It's not exactly like Mom's, but it's edible. I'm sure."

Chara didn't answer, but allowed themselves to be led into the kitchen, where three cups of tea surrounded the pie, already sliced into eight parts.

"Extra milk for you, Son. And extra sugar for you, Chara. And of course, the fruits of your labour." Three slices were deposited on three plates. "Now..." He carved a chunk off with his fork and put it expectantly into his mouth-

Ice gripped Chara's heart as his eyes bulged and he began to cough.

"Dad?!" Asriel's chair fell backwards as he got up. "What's wrong?!"

Asgore continued to cough for an agonising three seconds. Then he stopped to take a drink of tea. "Ahh," he said, relieved, "more cinnamon than I'm used to, my throat got a bad tickle. But that was delicious! Chara...?"

The monsters looked at the human. Their knuckles had gone white.

"...sorry sorry not again sorry not again..."

A larger hand grabbed their shoulder, arresting their freak out. "Have some tea, Chara, it will calm you."

They obeyed. It felt like pouring warm water over the ice that had appeared inside them, washing away the knot.

"Oh dear," continued Asgore, "this little excursion hasn't gone as you hoped, has it?"

"...no," said Asriel, "we hoped we could get past the last pie. And what happened next..."

"I certainly hope a tickled throat doesn't mean you'll abandon this hobby, children," said Asgore. "It's a lovely pie. Go on, have some. I cannot believe you waited this long."

"It's not that lovely," said Chara, "Toriel's is probably better."

The grip on their shoulder relaxed into a reassuring pat. "You're comparing yourself to something refined over centuries. Do you know what the average person will say if this pie was placed next to Toriel's?"

"What?"

"'Golly, two pies!'"

The goats started laughing, and the human was forced to smile. Seeing the man who had taken them into his home a second time, despite what it cost, being completely unharmed from their baked goods, put Chara in one of those ambivalent moods they got occasionally. Best to smother it with pie.

...Asgore was right. Too much cinnamon.

**Author's Note:**

> Original suggestion: Asriel wants Chara to "get back in the saddle" and cook Asgore a pie containing cups of butter, to help Chara get over their trauma.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
